


Angel of Mercy

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Detective Dean Winchester, Detective Donna Hanscum, Doctor Castiel (Supernatural), Doctor Kevin Tran, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nurse Ephraim, Nurse Meg Masters, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Rit Zien, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-09-29 23:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 19,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: The Winchester brothers are barely on speaking terms, as they each cope with their father’s accident in their own unhealthy ways. Dean lets his anger sabotage his relationships, particularly with the love of his life, who remains his partner at the police department. Sam is a dedicated son now, harboring guilt about his last fight with his father. His lover is an intensely passionate young nurse called Ephraim, who hopes Sam will one day be able to commit.Against this backdrop, at the facility where John lies silent, patients seem to be dying under mysterious circumstances. Welcome to Mercy Hospital.





	1. Mr. Commitment

The slide of fabric over skin was a welcome sound. The shush of it was enough to make Sam smile happily. “Hey,” he whispered.

His lover hummed low in his throat. “You’re awake.”

It was in his voice, that soft hint of want, and suddenly Sam was wide awake. He shifted beneath the body he knew so well, and smirked as he heard the catch in his lover’s throat. “So I am. What do you plan to do about that?”

The sigh was lustful. “I need you. Right now. I need this.”

Sam’s eyes opened at last, and he saw the barely-contained frenzy in the blue gaze before him. He shivered under it. “God, Ephraim. When you look at me like that…”

It was all he got out before his lover tore into him. Ephraim was the sort of partner who needed no guidance. He knew exactly what Sam wanted, and he administered to his every desire with confidence and urgency. When he got that tone in his voice, usually after a long shift at work, Sam knew his best option was to let the man take over completely, let him eke out every drop of satisfaction for both of them. At times like this, sex with Ephraim was simply holding on for survival.

When they both lay sweaty and panting some unknowable time later, Sam turned to gaze at him with wonder. “You all right?”

Ephraim laughed quietly. “I’m as good as it gets, Sam. You’re incredible.” Then he turned to stare back. “How do you feel?”

Always that same question, asked with such intensity. It was sweet the way Ephraim insisted on checking on him like that. “I’m great. I feel amazing.”

Relief filled Ephraim’s eyes with tears. “I’m glad,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m so glad.”

“Eph? Why do you come home like that sometimes? Most of the time when you get home from work, you’re worn out, but sometimes-“

“Sometimes I’ve been thinking of you all the way home. Sometimes I’ve been burning inside all night. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here some night when I got here. I’d burn to ash.”

Sam had never known a lover who talked like this before. The intensity was overwhelming some days. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

The eyes were dry now. Sam had never seen Ephraim actually weep. “It would kill me if you did.”

He frowned at him. “Don’t say that. Please.”

His lover lay back and smiled up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. You just don’t know how much I need you sometimes. There’s no one else who can do for me what you do.”

Sam yawned. “I’ve got to sleep. This Barker negotiation is giving me headaches at work.”

Ephraim turned to him again, with worry in his eyes. “Have you been having headaches?”

He laughed at Ephraim’s intensity. “Eph, stop. I’m fine. I just mean the other team’s guy is running me through it, just for fun so far as I can tell. I’ve changed the wording of one particular sentence four times, and it isn’t even a critical statement. He’s trying to show off for his boss, and I get that, but my boss is getting fed up. If the senior partner ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. It’s probably like the head nurse. She probably gets impatient with her nurses when things don’t go smoothly.”

“Definitely. But my boss is a bitch. I thought you liked the partners.”

“Tony Giles isn’t so bad. And Jeff Krause is a good guy. It’s Sandover who never seems to be happy no matter what we do. He should’ve retired twelve years ago or more, but he doesn’t trust Tony, and he knows Krause isn’t the shark he wanted him to be. He once told me if I work nights and weekends, eat lunch at my desk, and volunteer for every project no one wants, and I keep that up for about ten more years, I have a chance of making partner.”

“Sam, that’s not a healthy way to live!”

He smirked. “Krause says as soon as the old man finally gives in and retires or dies, he and Tony are making me a full partner whether Sandover likes it or not.”

Ephraim nodded. “Good. I don’t want you living like that.”

“It’s still going to be a lot of work, Eph. You know that. A lot of late nights. And that doesn’t go away when I make partner. You’re going to be okay with that?”

But now Ephraim was grinning at him.

Sam shrugged. “What?”

“Listen to you. Mr. Commitment talking about the future,” he teased gently.

Heat filled Sam’s face immediately. “I just...I just mean, you know, if everything works out…”

Ephraim leaned down to kiss him gently. “It’s okay. Don’t hyperventilate. I’m not going to make you promise anything. You’re a rolling stone. I know. Why talk about tomorrow when we’ve got tonight.”

His flush reached his throat and chest. “Shut up. I never said any of that crap. I just don’t like to promise things when I don’t know….It isn’t you! It’s just-“

His lover snickered. “Sam, you won’t even call me your boyfriend.”

It was becoming uncomfortably hot now. “That’s-that’s just because it’s a stupid word! And partner is a legal relationship.”

“Okay! Okay. I get it. Shh. I’m just teasing you. Would you feel better if I called you bro?”

Sam shoved at him, and listened to him laugh. He smiled too. “I’m going to sleep.”

He received another kiss in spite of his sulking. “Good night, bro.”

Sam kicked him in the shin and curled away, but he laughed.

It was at least twenty minutes later when he heard Ephraim whispering. The man was running his fingers through Sam’s hair gently, his voice so low that Sam nearly couldn’t make out the words. “I have to keep you healthy. You matter more than anyone ever has. I have to watch over you. You can’t be one of them. You matter too much…”

He filed a mental memo to himself to ask Ephraim what that meant when they were both awake next, and slipped away again with a sigh.

***

“What are you saying?”

Kevin frowned at the head nurse. “I just said what I’m saying.”

Meg ground her teeth. “Say it again, Dr. Tran, and be very careful how you say it. Be specific as you can.”

“I-I really think I should go speak to Mr. Gadreel about this.”

Now she rolled her eyes. “Apparently you’ve never encountered Tony Gadreel.”

“Uh, no, but-“

“This is bigger than head of security. This needs to go to the police. So I’m going to ask you again, Doctor. What did you find?”

Kevin stared at her with wide eyes. “The staff says you’re paranoid,” he muttered. “It could be nothing.”

“You don’t think it’s nothing. If you did, you wouldn’t have brought it up to the paranoid head nurse. You think there’s something going on. Just like I know there is.”

He cleared his throat and looked down at the blood test results. “It’s just that...Mrs. Holden’s medications and her blood chemistry at the time of death...don’t add up.”

Meg’s eyes narrowed sharply. “You said that. But what does that mean specifically?”

“It means...It means that either someone made a mistake-a horrible one-or someone purposely...It’s ajmaline. Just a trace, but it’s there. And her eyes were also bloodshot. It’s a sign of-“

“Of suffocation.”

Kevin nodded.

“What’s ajmaline?”

“A treatment Mrs. Holden had no business taking.”

Meg took a deep breath. “Dr. Tran-“

“Kevin’s okay.”

“Kevin. Do everyone a favor, and keep meticulous records.”

The young doctor seemed to bristle a little. “I always do.”

“And don’t talk to anyone else except hospital admin and the law enforcement about what you know. And I’ve got nothing but hunches, but I’m going to give you a list of patients that I’d really like you to look into records for, to see if you find any suspicious patterns.”

Kevin watched her carefully, and nodded again. “That’s fine. What do these patients have in common?”

Meg glared at the closed door behind them which led to Dr. Tran’s morgue. “That’s what we need to find out, and fast.”

The doctor’s face was pale, and his breath was becoming shallow. “Is admin aware…”

She turned to storm down the empty hall back to her territory, but called over her shoulder. “Tried. But I’m just paranoid, remember?”

She could hear the kid sighing behind her. She slammed the door to her office upon entering, and grabbed her phone. She stared at it just a moment before entering the number she had kept for nearly two weeks while she waited for action to be taken by Lucien Dark, the administrator she had trusted with her suspicions. It was demoralizing to lose faith in the admin she had worked tirelessly for all her career. But she had a responsibility, and she would probably lose her job, but it was what she had to do.

Meg was hardly anyone’s favorite person. She was a bitch, by all accounts. She lacked the warmth that was supposed to come with the job. But what she lacked in that area, she more than made up for with efficiency, intelligence and hard work, a singular dedication to the patients in her care and the nurses who worked for her.

“Pick a cause and serve it,” she murmured to herself. “Dark wasn’t the man you thought he was. But you know who you are, and you’re not letting this go without a fight. Even if you go down, you’re going down serving your cause. Fighting for those in your charge. You’re not a good person, but you’re an honorable one, and no matter what else you suck at in life, you fight for your cause.”

With that pep talk, she dialed the number, and waited.


	2. RBG Dissents

Victor’s mouth was full, so he waved his friend to the phone. Dean rolled his eyes, and grabbed it. “Homicide, this is Winchester.”

“I got this number from Detective Henricksen weeks ago.”

Dean pinched his nose. The headache was getting worse as the day wore on. Did he eat lunch? He couldn’t remember. “Yeah, he’s extremely busy. Interviewing witnesses. I’m a homicide detective. How can I help?”

Victor snorted at him, and continued to eat with no urgency. 

“Okay, well, I’m trying to get somebody to look into some sketchy shit going on down at Mercy Hospital. How do we do that?”

He sent Victor a look of pure irritation, and sat down with a pen. “Ma’am, we usually have you file a-“

“Look. I’m the head nurse at Mercy. And I think I’ve got patients dying before they should be. I took it to my administrator and was blown off. I’m probably going to lose my job for this, but if I’m not just paranoid, people are going to keep dying. So we’re all safer if we just hold hands and cross the street together, ‘kay?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right. Okay. I apologize. You’re doing the right thing. Just...tell me everything.”

***

“He’s a what?”

“A morgue pathologist and a coroner.”

“A what?”

Dean came barreling down the hall toward her office. “He’s a morgue…” He stopped when he saw the smirk. “Do you have to mess with me?”

Donna snickered, and handed him a powdered donut. “No. But this job doesn’t have many benefits. Gotta get them when they present themselves, you know. Sometimes you gotta make your own fun.”

Her former lover bit into his donut sulkily. “He’s a morgue pathologist and coroner,” he said again, in a normal tone. “And this Masters chick seems to think he can prove there’s been something shady going on.”

“Was this Masters chick an adult professional woman, in no way less valuable to society than the morgue doctor?”

She loved to watch the man grind his teeth. He had a lovely, strong jaw. “This head nurse,” he corrected himself. 

“Oh, a head nurse chick! And the doctor dudebro, he’s got proof of foul play? Or he’s been playing with fowls?”

Dean stared up at the ceiling. “I swear I’m going to transfer to Lawrence.”

Donna smiled sweetly. “For sure,” she agreed. “But before you do, I’m going to say dudebro every time I hear you talking about a chick.” 

“Can we move on, Alice Paul?”

“Oh, yeah, you betcha. I won’t even bring up the way you just used an American heroine as an insult. Go ahead. Tell me more.”

Dean’s voice quieted. “Donna? This is Mercy. Even if I think this case is nothing, I need to check it out. It’s our job. But it’s also…”

She softened her smile. “I know. It’s also the Captain. I got your back and you know it. Come on, prodigal son-shine. Time to go visit your dad.”

***

Sam yawned. He had stayed up with Ephraim too late last night, and now he was at the hospital long after he should have gone home. He closed his book and stretched. “Okay, Dad. Now you know everything you never wanted to know about the notorious Ruth Bader Ginsberg, but not from the fun internet meme perspective. This was her latest dissent in its pure form. Aren’t you glad I’m the son who visits you?”

“It’s a wonder he’s still alive,” a voice from the doorway snickered. 

He whirled around. “Dean!”

The handsome smile behind him was shadowed by weariness. “You read him these exciting thrillers every time you come?”

He shrugged. “I need to keep up, and Dad hasn’t complained yet.”

His brother sighed, and stepped into the room to sit as far from their father’s still body as he could. “Yeah. That’s how you know he’s really gone.”

The words made Sam flinch. “He’s not gone, Dean. He’s just...not back yet.”

Dean snorted. He ran a hand down his face. “Hear that, Captain?” he called. “That’s Sammy. He’s repeating words I told him our whole lives. Dad’s not gone. He just ain’t back yet.”

“Dean, stop.”

“If it pisses him off, he’s welcome to wake up and tell me so. What’s that, Captain? I should be doing my job? The job comes before me, before you, before everything? Well, yes, sir. Feel free to wake up and demote my arrogant ass back to running traffic stops on Saturday mornings. No? Okay then.”

Sam’s stomach twisted into an angry knot. “Dry court decisions aren’t going to wake him, so you’re trying to annoy him awake? You know, I did some reading recently, and I don’t think he understands words, but there are some researchers who think he can perceive emotions on some lev-“

Dean burst into laughter, and Sam could hear bitterness in it. “John Winchester never perceived emotions before he got himself shot. I doubt that experience made him suddenly capable of feeling something other than disappointment.”

He turned back to their father. “You’re a child.”

“No. You were a child. You didn’t know him like I did. You didn’t know him at all. And you know what else? He never bothered to know you either. You had a big brother to look out for you, so why would you need him? But now that he’s gone, you care about what he wanted?”

Tears burned behind his eyes. “Stop. Just stop. You think being angry keeps it from hurting. It doesn’t. It only hurts me more. So just go. You’ve made it clear you don’t intend to visit him. Why are you even here?” Then he snorted too. “Right. Suit. You’re not here for Dad. You’re here on the job.”

Dean stood and brushed off his pants. “Yeah. And you know that’s how he would want it. Job comes first, Sammy. Always.”

“It’s Sam.” But he could hear his brother storming away. It sounded exactly like John always had.


	3. Stranger Friends

The doctor stared at his coffee in exhaustion. He hadn’t bothered to order food. He should have, and he knew it. But there wasn’t much point when he knew he would just stare at that too. 

Today was just like every day for the last two thousand years, and Dr. Clarence Castiel was sick of it. 

“Days, Cas.”

He looked up wearily. “What?”

The redhead giggled at him. “Days. Two thousand days. Not two thousand years.”

“Are you certain?”

Charlie patted his hand. “That you’ve been here five and a half years and not two millennia? Yeah. Pretty certain.”

“I counted.”

She scraped the bottom of her yogurt cup. “I know.”

“I mean, five times three sixty-five, obviously. But then I counted after that. I’m a hundred seventy-five days from my six years anniversary at Mercy.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Two thousand years. I’m very old, Charlie.”

“Ancient. Also known as thirty-four.” She tapped at the game on her phone. 

He nodded. “Thirty-four hundred years old.”

“I’ve been listening to you bitch your way through today’s quarter-life crisis for at least fifteen years.”

Castiel heaved a sigh. “Not even quarter. You know? I’m probably a third of the way at least. And still here, day in and day out.”

Charlie put her phone down finally. “Okay, Eeyore. That’s enough.”

“Eeyore?”

“The donkey from Pooh. Eeyore-Don’t say it!”

“I don’t understand that ref-“

She threw her hands up. “Cas? We’re best friends, and I’m under obligation according to Besties Pact 3.0 to tell you the truth.”

“When did we upgrade to a new edition? I thought we were still operating under the second-“

“That’s because I’m obligated to tell you the truth, but you tend to just click the terms agreement without reading it. Telling you the truth and making it sink in are totally different things.”

Castiel accepted this. He did just click the button.

“You’re bored and lonely. And you refuse to make new friends, so you’re going to stay that way.”

He groaned, and pushed his coffee away. “I don’t like making friends! It always seems to involve talking to people.”

“Which you might be good at if you ever bothered to try.” She returned her attention to her screen. “You can’t stay a third wheel to me and Dorothy forever.”

“A third wheel adds stability,” he muttered miserably. 

“And whining.”

“That too. Come on, Charlie. You’re supposed to be my wingman. If you make friends for me, then I don’t have the opportunity to mess it up, and we’ll both be happier. Everybody loves you! Everyone thinks I’m weird.”

“You are weird. People just notice.”

He frowned at her. “We are friends, right? Because this honesty is starting to seem unfriendly.”

“Excuse me. Do you know how to operate this coffee vending machine?”

Castiel looked up, and immediately froze. The voice belonged to the most beautiful man he had ever seen in person, standing over their table. He opened his mouth and stopped breathing. 

Charlie kicked his shin under the table, in the exact place she had kicked him for the twelve years they had been friends...or whatever they were. “He does,” she offered sweetly. 

The man smiled shakily, then turned toward the machine again. 

Charlie gestured to the man’s wrist. Castiel shrugged frantically. She rolled her eyes in exasperation and pointed at the wrist again. 

The doctor’s eyes widened. There on the wrist of this tall, handsome, broad-shouldered Adonis with the soft voice and intelligent eyes, was a braided leather bracelet, each strand dyed in faded rainbow colors. It matched the one on Castiel’s own wrist exactly. His mouth was suddenly very dry. 

He must have stood on his own, but it took Charlie’s shove to get him moving. It knocked his voice into gear as well. “Oh, uh, yeah. It-See, it needs to be repaired. Doesn’t work right, and hasn’t for weeks.”

The man smiled down at him. “So I’m not just too stupid to operate a vending machine.” 

There was no reason for his face to be heating pink, but he knew it was. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I don’t know, because I’ve never seen you try to operate one that works properly, but I’m sure that isn’t...How do you like it?”

The man was now smirking. 

“Your, uh, coffee. How…” He sighed in frustration. “How do you take your coffee?”

Charlie had her head in her palm back at the table. 

But this man raised his eyebrows. “Oh! You’ve been to Pride! Ally?”

Castiel realized his sleeve was allowing his bracelet to peek out. He licked his lips carefully. “Uh, no. I’m-no. Not just an ally.”

Then the man was holding out his hand. “My name is Sam. And I appreciate allies, but I’m not either.”

He stared at the hand, then let a small smile shine through. He took the offered hand in both of his warmly. “It’s always good to meet family.”

The sunshine which burst from Sam was stunning. Castiel was left sighing helplessly. “Yeah. I hate that Pride was moved from the city. I get why; it’s accessible to more locales where it is now, but I can’t ever seem to attend anymore. It was easier when it was right here. But I guess that’s selfish.”

Castiel remembered to release his hand, a little belatedly. “No! I agree. But we have things here that the smaller towns don’t have. I-I don’t usually partake, but-but I’m still glad there are places in the city that...I’m Clarence Castiel. Friends call me Cas. It’s a shortened version of my name.”

Sam laughed, but it wasn’t a bit unkind. “Okay, Cas. You’re a doctor here?”

“Emergency care.”

“I’m an attorney, but I’m here to visit my dad.”

Castiel hushed at once. “Is he going to be all right?”

Sadness cast shadow over the smile now. “No. Probably not. He’s in a coma. There’s some brain activity, but...Nobody really expects him to wake up. I keep thinking...but he’s mostly gone. I just...didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. To say anything at all. The last time we spoke, it was bad.” He shook his head. “But you don’t need to hear all that. Coffee. I really just came for coffee.”

He bit his lip while he walked Sam through the curmudgeonly old cafeteria coffee maker. Then he made himself speak up just as the man was about to leave. “Sam? I don’t know you, and we may never meet again. Sometimes it’s nice to tell your story to a stranger, because no matter what you say, it’s someone who doesn’t know you. I’m in purgatory right now, when I’m off shift, but can’t go home because I’ve got to be back in a few hours. And I can’t sleep in the call room, because I’ll wake up too groggy. I’ve got nothing to do, and I feel like you could use a, uh, a friend. A stranger friend.” He laughed ruefully. “Friends don’t get much stranger than me.”

The sunshine was back, and Castiel basked in it with a sense of accomplishment. Charlie had provided the shove, but Castiel was holding his own with the most attractive man he had ever met. It was a victory, no matter how badly he screwed it up later. 

***


	4. Bully For You

Donna was the most naturally cheery individual Dean had ever known. It had confused him immediately upon meeting her. She had offered him a powdered donut and then introduced herself as the new hire, in a weirdly adorable northern accent. Dean had been hungover at the time, and hadn’t been able to fully appreciate his new colleague’s delightful persona. He had grunted at her, and eaten the donut in two bites. Then he had hurried on to Captain Winchester’s office for orders. Nothing cured a hangover quite like disappointing Dad first thing in the morning. 

But Jody Mills had adopted the cheerful officer, because it was Jody, and misfits tended to latch onto her, and so when Dean, Benny, Victor, Jo and Jody went out, there was Donna, smiling relentlessly. Over months, schedules changed, and finding a time all six of them could get together was tricky. But Dean soon found that his first question when one of them asked if he wanted to go out for drinks was whether Hanscum would be there. The response was always delivered with a smirk. It was no surprise to anyone when Dean finally awoke beside Donna after staying up too late talking and sharing stories at a gathering in her apartment, long after sobering up, hours after their friends had slipped away and they hadn’t even noticed. 

It was the happiest Dean had been in his whole life. 

The eleven months of bliss with Donna had been everything Dean had ever wanted. But then they had come into the busy station one morning to find that everyone was frantic to find them. 

“I-I turned off my phone. Why? What’s going on?”

When everyone looked at Jody, even Victor, Dean knew it was bad. Benny’s eyes were red, and Jo was still wearing her comm headset, but she was squeezing the big bear’s hand. Dean had never seen any of them like this before. 

“For gosh sake, can somebody say what’s so wrong?” Donna had demanded. 

Nausea hit Dean in a wave. “Where’s the Captain? Guys?”

Jody cleared her throat. The whole time she explained that John had been shot, Dean felt warmer and warmer, until he was sure he would throw up. But Donna kept her hand steady on his lower back, and his strength came from her. He would never forget to be grateful for her in that worst moment of his life. 

So it was not without bitter irony that Dean had let his anger, and, yes, his drinking, drive them apart. At the time when he had expected to be proposing marriage, instead he found himself packing his uniforms and photos of his mother into the Impala and moving into John’s empty apartment to stare endlessly at the walls closing in on him. It was newly promoted Captain Mills who had seen him through to his slippery grip on sobriety in the last year, and Benny had been his sponsor. 

When Donna had made detective too, they had been professional and stubborn enough to opt to work together. As Donna had put it, “I’ll dispatch in Jo’s comm center before I partner with Henriksen, so buckle up or find a new beat, Winchester.”

There were times, like now, that Dean caught his heart pretending they still were what they had once been to one another. 

“Look, Mr. Gadreel, were you on duty that night or not? You’re head of freaking security, for crying out loud. How can this be a tough question?”

Dean had always enjoyed when other men exasperated Donna, similarly to the way she enjoyed exasperating Dean. It was the little pleasures in life that made it all worthwhile. 

“Well, you better get your ass to checking that schedule, for sure. I haven’t met my quota on obstruction charges yet this month, you know!”

It was a bit of sick pleasure to see how quickly Tony Gadreel got busy looking through his mess of a desk. This was the guy who had bullied Sam throughout middle school, until the poor kid had finally had enough, and broke his nose. Dean had been angry that Sam had not told him, but, oh, so proud of him for needing stitches on his split knuckles. He could still see the remains of Sam’s handiwork in the shape of Tony Gadreel’s nose now, and he knew Gadreel could feel his smirk. 

He touched Donna’s elbow gently. “Sam’s here,” he whispered. 

She glanced at her watch. “Kinda late.”

He shrugged. “Never too late for a self-imposed guilt trip. He’s visiting the Captain.”

Her eyes softened. “He still comes all the time, doesn’t he?”

“Never misses a week, far as I know. Not that he’s speaking to me most days.”

Donna cringed. “You boys. Best friends your whole lives, and you can’t help each other through now?”

Dean snorted softly. “He’s stubborn.”

“Or you are.”

“Or both,” he admitted. 

Gadreel returned to the hall where the detectives waited. “I was...I was scheduled that night,” he said in a vague tone. 

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Scheduled. You were scheduled. Were you here or not?” He saw Donna’s frown out of the corner of his eye. 

“I was scheduled,” the man confirmed defensively. 

“Yeah. I been scheduled for a lot of stuff I never showed for. Haircuts. Dentist.”

“Restaurant reservations,” Donna added. 

He scowled. “One time.”

“It was my birthday, you know,” she shot back. 

Gadreel blinked at them. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re-“

“Were you in the building, doing your job, when the old lady died?”

The security officer lowered his eyes in shame, and that was all Dean needed to know. 

Tony Gadreel, the man meant to guard the patients, property and staff, may have let the devil slip in, because he wasn’t at his post.


	5. Angel

Trust between nurse and patients was critical. Ephraim had learned this simple mantra from a doctor he had worked with while in the emergency ward. Dr. Castiel was something of a hero for Ephraim. He was the master of resuscitation. He was legendary for it. If someone was going to go into cardiac arrest in this city, the best chance was to do so on Dr. Castiel’s watch. He had put himself through undergraduate pre-med as an EMT. His resuscitation rates were so admirable that he had received recognition from the professional community multiple times in his career. Ephraim witnessed so many miracles while working alongside Dr. Castiel, had learned so much, that he really had him to thank for his own successes as a nurse. 

He hadn’t worked with Dr. Castiel since they were both at St. Joseph, toward the beginning of their careers. He knew the good doc had transferred to Mercy a few years back, had seen him around, but hadn’t worked directly with him in that time. Ephraim had moved on to the IC ward, watching over the most vulnerable patients in the night. But he never forgot what Dr. Castiel had taught him about trust. 

It was critical. And nothing inspired a patient to trust him quite like being brought back from the jaws of death at his hands. It was impossible not to trust a man who had just resuscitated someone against incredible odds. Ephraim had learned from the best. If anyone had ever noticed that more of his patients needed resuscitation than average, they would be assured by his better-than-average success rate. It more than evened out the statistics. Ephraim knew, because he loved the statistics, and kept excellent journal entries, entirely filled with calculations. 

Once he had earned the trust of his patients through his miraculous triumph of bringing them back to life, Ephraim could then perform his true work, given to him by no less a force than Heaven itself.

Ephraim, of course, was burdened by the task of ending pain, and he loved his work.


	6. Safe

Sam smiled to himself as he accepted his third coffee. He shouldn’t be drinking all this caffeine so late at night, but this doctor didn’t seem to have any concept of a sleep cycle, and he seemed so happy to be getting it for Sam that he just couldn’t say no. He would just sip at it, and pretend he was still in school, fighting against the bane and seductress of all law students: sleep. Besides, when Ephraim got home, he would be pleasantly surprised to find Sam wide awake for the second night in a row.

Thinking of Ephraim sent a tiny pang of guilt through him. His lover was barely two hours into his work shift, and here was Sam drinking coffee with an endearing, handsome doctor, just downstairs from him, and he hadn’t spared him a thought in all this time.

Castiel was smiling too, with such a wide open curiosity that Sam felt he knew what it was like to be under a microscope, but somehow, it wasn’t unpleasant. They had talked very little about Sam’s father before Sam had decided he would rather get to know Castiel better. The man was adorably awkward. It wasn’t often that Sam was the one with confidence in any social situation which did not benefit from his professional expertise. It was kind of nice.

“So you’ve been to Jasper’s!” Sam laughed in triumph.

He loved the pink filling the doctor’s cheeks. “Yes, well, my friend-“ He began to point again at the woman he had been with earlier, who had long since sent him a thumbs up and taken off. “Charlie. She sees to it that I publicly humiliate myself in some way at least once a month or so. She has talked me into going to Jasper’s on more than one occasion. I find it strangely difficult to tell her no.”

He snickered quietly. “We’ll have to get together sometime and go. I haven’t been in ages. Not since...Anyway, it’s been a while.”

Castiel’s proud little smile was the most adorable thing Sam had ever seen. “I would enjoy that. I’m quite bad at karaoke, but I might like to have company while Charlie and her girlfriend are singing.”

“Here. Give me your number. I’ll send you a text so you have mine. You can let me know next time you’re going, in case I’m free.”

The blue eyes stared at him for an instant, then the doctor stuttered through his phone number. “I’d enjoy that,” he gushed again breathlessly.

Sam took a tiny sip of the coffee for show. “Okay. I guess I better head out. Visiting hours are nearly up, and I want to go back to my dad’s room for my book and jacket before I go.”

Castiel leapt from his chair. “Yes, of course. He’s in extended care? It’s not so far from my call room. I’ll walk you.”

Ordinarily, Sam might have declined an offer like that. But he genuinely liked this doctor, and he wasn’t ready to be alone yet in any case. He was still hurt and angry because of his run-in with his brother, and he didn’t really want to return to that headspace immediately. He would get there too quickly once he went home to a cold, empty bed. Nights like these made staying at Ephraim’s place very lonely.

Once they had reached the extended care ward, however, Sam was surprised to see Ephraim speaking with a nurse at the counter. He frowned. “Eph? Aren’t you on duty upstairs?”

The nurse turned, with a brilliant smile, which froze as he saw Sam walking around the corner with Dr. Castiel. “Sam, I’m...Hello, Doctor.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel frown suddenly. “Hello, Nurse Thom. Nurse Styne, welcome back. You’ve recovered from your illness.”

She nodded, then took a step back. “Yes, thank you, Dr. Cas. I’m heading for the break room. I’ll see you later, Ephraim. Remember what I said about those records. Duplicates, always! You never know when we’ll be audited, and Masters will have your head if something’s missing again. You’re lucky I caught it instead!”

But Ephraim was watching Castiel now. “Thank you,” he muttered after her.

“Is something wrong?” Sam queried in a hushed voice. He certainly didn’t want to contribute to Ephraim getting into trouble over paperwork.

Then the smile was back, full force. “Of course not. How are you, Doctor? It’s been a long time. I was just thinking of you today.”

Castiel did not return the smile. “I’m fine, Nurse Thom.”

“Ephraim,” he corrected in a sort of purr.

But Castiel just glanced at Sam. “I should be going. Thank you for an enjoyable coffee. I hope to text you soon.”

Sam nodded. “Yes. Thanks for taking the time to talk. It’s good to meet you.”

He watched as Castiel took another long look at Ephraim, then disappeared down the hall again toward the elevators.

Sam cleared his throat. “That was weird. You two...have some kind of history I should maybe know about?”

But Ephraim’s smile was warm and soothing. “No. He probably just didn’t remember me as well as I remember him. He’s a great emergency doctor. My inspiration, really.”

“Oh. You did emergency room stuff?”

Ephraim reached out finally, and took Sam’s hand. “It’s been a long time. But he’s the one who truly taught me resuscitation. He’s a legend.”

His expression softened. “You’re very good yourself. Everyone says so.” His pride in this warmed him. “Something about how your success rates are so incredible.”

“I’m good,” he sighed. “But Cas, he’s still better. And most doctors aren’t great at first responder work. But it’s where he shines. Some of us just enjoy the adrenaline, I guess.”

“So the paperwork thing isn’t a big deal, right?”

Ephraim scoffed. “Styne worries too much. You’re here to see your dad?”

“I was. Then I met Cas in the cafeteria. He’s really nice. We talked for a long time. I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

Ephraim walked him to his father’s room and waited while he gathered his things, watched him squeeze John’s hand gently.

“I’m heading home. Want me to wait up for you?”

“No, no. You’re tired. Get some rest.” He reached up to kiss him. “I’ll be home soon to watch over you.”

Sam smiled at him wearily, and left the ward, left Ephraim standing over his father’s prone body, and pulled on his jacket against the cool night air. He was tired, and he did need to rest. He was happy that Ephraim took such sweet care of him.

***

The brightness faded from Ephraim’s face as soon as Sam had disappeared. He turned to the silent patient below. “So what shall we do, John Winchester?” he whispered. “What am I supposed to do? My lover and my hero, right in front of me. The way they looked at one another. Did you see it, John? And Sam had the nerve to ask if he and I had history. Sam doesn’t understand what’s best for him. It’s my job to keep him safe and healthy. Clearly Dr. Cas isn’t the same man I remember. He’s toxic. Did you see the way he looked at me?”

He patted John’s hand. “It’s all right, John. This is a good thing, okay? I’ve felt your pain. And I wanted to ease it since the first day Sam introduced us. But because of Sam, I waited, because I love him so much. Now I see it’s better for him to stop coming here. Dr. Cas will come between us, or someone else might. Or Sam could catch something that would make him sick. It’s better if he goes right home after work, but he won’t do that so long as you’re here. This is a good thing, then. No harm done. I’ll protect Sam, and I’ll ease your suffering, all at the same time. Give me a few hours, John. Then I’ll come for you. I promise. It’ll all be over in just a few hours, and you and Sam won’t have to feel pain anymore. And I’ll watch over your son for you. He’s safe with me.”

John’s silence was just evidence that he slept well knowing that Sam was taken care of.


	7. The Big Goodbye

Dean had said goodnight to Donna. She had put her hand on his arm, and he had suddenly felt like curling up in her embrace the way he had once upon a time. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling it all so strongly today. He was tired. That was probably it. 

He needed to apologize to Sam. Donna was right that Dean shared some of the obstinacy that kept the two of them from reconciling. It had gotten so bad between them that Dean knew Sam was seeing someone, but didn’t even know the guy’s name. Not that he would last long. Sam was no better at commitment than Dean was.

The point was that he should make an effort. Even if Sam shot him down, which maybe he deserved at this point, at least he would know he had tried. 

By the time he made his way to John’s room, Sam had gone. Dean sighed, and sat down wearily. “Guess it’s pretty late. Should’ve known he would have left by now. Visiting ended hours ago.”

He dragged a calloused hand down his face. How did Sam sit in this stale, sterile room for hours listening to their father breathe and the machines whir? Dean hated it. 

He smirked. “Guess you hate it too, huh, Captain? I’ll bring you some classic rock.”

This was ridiculous. John couldn’t hear him. Why did people insist on talking to people who couldn’t hear them? It was stupid. 

“Look. I guess before I can apologize to Sammy, I gotta have it out with you. He don’t get why I don’t come to visit, but you do. Or you would. If you were still you.”

The breath never altered. 

“You know why. I can’t even look at you. Last time you spoke to Sam, you two were shouting at each other, like always, but worse. You two were always at each other’s throats. And now he’s the picture of devotion. Makes me so angry. You two, always fighting. But that’s more concern than you showed for me my whole life.” His voice caught on his words. He took a breath. “Probably the way it should’ve been. I was never the soldier you wanted me to be, never the officer you wanted. Was I, Captain? Was there ever a time when I measured up? Was there ever a moment when I was the man you wanted me to be?”

He laughed through burning tears. 

“Donna says I’m stubborn. Wonder where we got that. Look at you. Holding on after all these months, ready to let years go by like this, and why? Just to spite Heaven and Hell? Maybe they’re still trying to figure you out. I never did, and I tried. God, I tried. Then you went and got yourself shot, and I’ll never know if I was close to being what you wanted.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Sammy comes because he hates the fight you two ended on. But I know better. There was never going to be a goodbye, not with you. The fights with Sam only ended because you’re gone. He thinks there’s some kind of miracle that will bring you back, and then you’ll settle things between you, but you and I both know nothing would change. There’s a reason Sam left home for school the minute he could pry the door open. You’re only capable of anger and disappointment.”

Dean swallowed hard. “You scared the hell out of me,” he hissed. “My whole life. And I loved you. I worshipped you. And now I’m as angry as you ever were. I can’t even love Donna as much as I hate me. You did your best, Dad. I know that. But so did I, and it was never enough. You’re my CO, Dad. That’s all you ever wanted to be to me and Sammy. And now you’re a messed up memory for him, and a fallen Captain for me. I’ll do my job. I’ll look after Sam. But I’m done chasing the approval of a ghost. You died without ever getting to know Sam, and you died without ever telling me I was good enough. If Sam’s right that you can feel something in there? Feel that. I love you, Dad. But I hate me more. You taught me that.”

Without bothering to touch John’s hand, Dean turned toward the door. 

“I’m not coming back here, Captain. You’re gone, and you’re not coming back. And I got work to do. Job comes first, you know. Goodbye, Dad. Say hey to Mom for me.”

He let heavy footsteps fall in the empty hallway. Had he looked back, he might have seen a nurse slipping into the room silently to perform his duty. But Dean was determined to stop looking back. 

It was past midnight.


	8. Coffee Break

It just didn’t sit right in Castiel’s gut. It haunted him throughout his shift, and he couldn’t seem to shake it.

What was Nurse Thom doing on the long-term care ward? Why would Nurse Styne ever be the one to catch a mistake he had made? Even if he had worked an extra shift, to cover for an absent nurse on that floor, which Castiel doubted, why would he be hiding something from the head nurse? What sort of mistake had he made?

Castiel did not like Ephraim Thom. They had worked together a few years ago, at another facility, and Castiel had learned that the man had specifically asked to be put on his team in the emergency room, which had surprised him. They had only worked together a few times before that, but the head nurse there had said the young man was enamoured, that he had researched Castiel’s statistics, and wanted to join his team for every shift possible. When Castiel should have felt flattered by this, instead he felt a chill in his spine which he couldn’t explain.

He had watched the way Ephraim watched him work. He could feel those eyes on him. And every time the nurse tried to talk to him about survival rates and resuscitation successes versus failures, Castiel frowned at him and shut the conversation down. “These are people, Nurse Thom,” he had scolded sharply. “They are trusting us to see them as more than just numbers. They trust us to see them as individual humans, not simply objects to be fixed or problems to be solved. The most important thing is to earn the trust of the patient. Even when they reach us unconscious, part of them is still trusting us to do our best. I can’t worry about the numbers while I work to save someone. And I wouldn’t trust any doctor who couldn’t see past the numbers to the human suffering in front of him.”

Ephraim had smiled that strangely charming smile, and agreed emphatically. But Castiel never felt he truly learned what he tried to teach him. The young man thrilled with every near-death on their tables, sulked when he learned that Castiel had brought someone back from the brink of death without him to witness it. Others saw him as an apt student and quite competent nurse, and everyone seemed to think he was brilliant, especially considering the way he studied so intently. But Castiel saw a brilliant, apt student and competent nurse who focused intently on the wrong things. Even while he smiled with so much empathy at his patients, and maintained a professional and efficient work demeanor, yet something still felt off about him, and Castiel never encountered him without feeling that chill of dread shiver up his spine.

So it wasn’t just that lovely Sam Winchester was clearly dating him.

It was the story of Castiel’s life.

Clarence Castiel was a loner, though not by choice, all through his schooling. He supposed he had friends. If someone didn’t look too closely, he fit in well enough, albeit at the edge of any social circle, and not near the center. He was utterly forgettable. It still surprised him after all these years that Charlie sometimes texted him to go out and do something together, without any provocation. Sure, they were besties. But what did that even mean when one of the two of them was as socially inept as Castiel?

It shouldn’t have come as such a painful shock to realize that Sam was already seeing someone. He had enjoyed the man’s company so much, and had thought he understood the signals he was receiving, but no. Sam was just a friendly man, and Castiel was conveniently available. Story of his life.

But it wasn’t that which brought Castiel up to the long-term care ward at the middle of his night shift. He had just a moment, just long enough to grab a coffee and breathe a bit, before they would need him back downstairs. But he forwent this small luxury tonight, because something was not right.

“Doctor? Can I help you?”

He smiled tightly at the nurse at the desk. She had said it as though she wanted to ask if he was lost. “No, thank you. Getting my steps in.” It was something he had learned to say whenever he wandered, because no one ever questioned it, and left him alone. It always made everyone smile. Castiel supposed that was because it was always more pleasant to see someone else exercising than to do so oneself. That was partly why his emergency rooms were always filled with cardiac issues.

“Okay! Well, it’s small, but it’s the quietest ward in the building, so enjoy!”

He nodded at her, and continued on his way. He didn’t know what he was looking for, so he poked his head into each room along the way, and was beginning to feel silly for doing so.

John Winchester’s was the last room in the ward. He was a military hero and a police captain, according to his son, and he stayed here instead of a nursing home facility because of the veterans benefits and the county insurance. And Sam was not delusional about whether the man would wake up. He knew that was nearly impossible at this point. But he had confided in Castiel that if John ever did wake up, and Sam missed his chance to see him again just one last time, he would never forgive himself. Castiel couldn’t imagine that burden. He had no real family himself.

It was in this last room that Castiel’s instincts proved horribly accurate. Inside a room completely dark except for tiny LED lights peeking out from machines, a dark figure stood over Captain Winchester.

“Hey! What are you-“

The man turned around, cutting off Castiel’s hoarse cry as surely as if he had cut his throat, and for a moment, they simply stared at one another.

Then the doctor’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Ephraim Thom. What are you doing here?”

A woman in a county uniform appeared in the doorway, flicking on the light switch. “What’s going on, gentlemen?” she demanded in a northern accent, her hand casually resting on the sidearm at her hip.

Instead of eliciting any emotion from the nurse, the words seemed to begin a complex calculation in Ephraim’s mind. Only a second passed, but he seemed to come to a decision. “I’m glad you’re here. This doctor has no reason to be in here. The patient is in distress, and if I hadn’t gotten here when I did, I don’t know what might have happened.”

Castiel stared at him. “I have no reason to be...What did you do to him?”

Ephraim’s eyes pierced into Castiel’s. “I saved him. From whatever it was you were up to in here. You’re a dangerous man.”

That was how, on the night John Winchester went into cardiac arrest and was brought back by a heroic nurse who happened by at the right moment, Dr. Clarence Castiel was arrested for attempted murder by Detective Hanscum.


	9. The Joke Clause

Charlie’s ringtone for Castiel was still the theme for Greatest American Hero, ever since she had walked in on him singing it to himself in that crazy-deep voice of his years ago. At $1.29 on iTunes, it was worth every penny, because it made her smile every single time. Not that Castiel called often. He didn’t. He preferred texting because he communicated best through emoticons. 

“Cas, I was just thinking of you! Want to come sit in on my game with Kevin and-“

“Charlie, I’m invoking clause E of our pact.”

She frowned and sat up. “That’s...that’s a joke clause, Cas. Everything after C is a joke clause.”

“Not anymore. You’re my one phone call, and I need your help.”

Her heart began thudding into her ribs, and she took a deep breath to calm down. “Okay. Tell me what you need.”

Castiel’s sandpaper voice was low and hoarse. Charlie had never heard him sound this way. “I need you to find a lawyer. He’s not a criminal defense lawyer. He’s a corporate attorney. But he’s a lawyer, so they have to let him talk to me.”

“I don’t understand-“

“I’ll explain it all, but I need you to trust me. Sam Winchester. He’s the guy from the coffee machine. Look, they’re bending rules letting me use my own phone, but I’m about to lose it...along with everything else. You have to find Sam and get him to come to the County Detention Center to talk to me the minute he can. He won’t want to. You have to make him come. Please, Charlie.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Cas, is this-Are you going to be all right?”

He sighed. “Charlie, please believe me that I didn’t do what they’re going to say I did. There isn’t anyone else in the world I care about believing me as much as you.”

“And Sam Winchester.”

“And Sam Winchester,” he agreed. “Charlie, you are a dear friend, and I won’t forget this. Thank you. I have to go.”

“Cas!”

“Please hurry.”

“Castiel? Clarence!” But the line was dead in her hands. She swallowed her fear, and nodded again. “Sam Winchester. It’s okay, Cas,” she murmured to herself, looking down at her figurine of Hermione on her desk. “We’re on it. Whatever trouble you’re in, me and H, we got you, bestie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	10. Find Sam

“Answer your damn phone.”

Sam frowned down at the text message. He blinked several times, and then rubbed his eyes. In spite of all the coffee, he had managed to pass out. He had missed four calls from Dean, two from Ephraim and one from the department, probably Donna. What time was it?

The door to the bedroom flew open, and Sam’s breath caught in his throat. Ephraim had a fair complexion any day, but now he was positively pale. “Sam. You’re here!”

It was a little bit like being in a dream. “I’m-Where am I supposed to be?”

“Okay. Good. So you don’t know yet.”

He stared at his lover. “Eph? What the hell?”

Sometimes he got the impression Ephraim was doing complex math in his head. He had loved Ephraim’s intelligence from day one. The intensity of his eyes and the way he seemed to take in everything around him had caught Sam’s attention immediately. And he always thought before he spoke. Sam liked that too, especially after a lifetime spent with two men who said everything that came into their heads at full volume and without editing for hurtful content. But now, for the first time, it occurred to Sam that Ephraim might be considering his words so carefully because he wasn’t planning to tell the whole truth.

“Eph? Tell me what’s going on,” he said quietly.

“Sam, I love you so much. I know you don’t want to talk like that, but it’s true.”

Sam’s head was spinning. “Eph, I’m-I’m not…”

The man approached him and wrapped him into warm arms. “It’s okay. I know. You aren’t ready for that. This thing we are doing is just about sex and companionship.”

He cringed. God, was he that shallow? “I never said that…”

“You didn’t have to.” Ephraim’s adept fingers found the seam of Sam’s tee, and relieved him of it, over his head.

Sam’s breath began coming too fast. Too many things were happening right now. He couldn’t follow. “Eph, wait.”

But Ephraim caught his words with his own lips, “Need you,” he murmured. “Need you now.”

Before he could react, Sam found himself flat on his back again. He stared up at his lover. “Wait!”

“I can’t. You don’t know what this feels like. What’s in my veins right now! I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t wait. I need you now.” Those hands found their way to Sam’s boxers, pressing through them relentlessly.

He hissed his breath in through his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful, Sam. I have to take care of you. I have to keep you from being hurt. I know you don’t want to love me, that you’re afraid of loving someone, but, baby, I will take care of you. I can beat death, Sam. I’m better than him. He taught me a lot, but I’m better now, and you’re safer with me. I can beat death. It won’t ever come for you while I’m protecting you.”

Sam pushed Ephraim’s hands away. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel things with you I never felt before. I can’t go back. It would kill me to go back. You may not love me, but you trust me. You do, you trust me, and that’s the most important part, that you trust me.” Lips caressed Sam’s skin, his throat, his chest. “You matter more than anyone ever has. You’re the only one who ever mattered at all. The only one who is real, other than me.”

“Ephraim! Are you all right? You’re not making any sense! And what time is it? Are you even supposed to be home yet?”

Sam’s phone was ringing again, on the side table. It sounded like an alarm. Ephraim did not even seem to hear it. “I needed you.”

“Wait. Eph, that’s my brother. I need to-“

“No!” He smacked the phone out of Sam’s hand, and it crashed across the floor.

Sam stared. Then his eyes narrowed. “Get off me.”

Ephraim’s own eyes were wide. “No. No, Sam, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

The large man pushed himself up, and shoved Ephraim’s chest to move him. “Get off me!” he growled again.

The phone fell silent after one last ring. Ephraim’s face was red with anger. “Don’t do that,” he snapped in a cold voice Sam hadn’t heard before. “Don’t push me away.” It was a warning.

Sam stood out of the bed. He looked down to find his shirt, but when he looked up, Ephraim had something in his hand Sam hadn’t known he even possessed. He stared down in horror and disbelief at the handgun. “Ephraim!” he breathed.

Tears sparkled in those intense eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam. You can’t. I know what’s best for you. I saved your father tonight. And I’m saving you now. You need me. So just leave the phone alone. You don’t need anyone out there. I said I’d take care of you. And sometimes that means whether you like it or not.”

*********

Dean tossed his phone across the desk. Benny was watching him. “You okay, brother?”

“Of course I’m not okay!” Dean snapped back. “An asshole doctor just tried to kill my dad, and now Sam’s not picking up his damn phone.” He stood and threw his jacket on. “That’s it. I’m going to Sam’s apartment.”

“Donna said-“

“I know what she said! But I need to talk to Sam!”

The woman who should have been his wife-or at least his ex-wife-by now walked into the room again.

“Where have you been?”

Donna frowned at him. “Uff da! I’ve been talking to people. Doing my job. Benny, you need to look over some of this with me. Something isn’t adding up, you know.”

“Give it to me.”

But she shook her head. “Jody pulled you off the case soon as it got personal. Benny’s my secondary on this now. I promised to keep you looped in, but you gotta wait till I know something for that. Best thing for you is to go home and get a few hours sleep, and come back for a report in the daylight.”

She was right. Of course she was right. But they all knew Dean wasn’t going to do that. “If I leave here, it’s going to be to go kill that son of a bitch that touched my dad.”

Donna sighed at Benny, who shrugged. “You’re a lot of help, Lafitte,” she complained.

“Been the guy’s best friend since he took a swing at me on a playground, Donna. I know not to get in his way right now.”

Dean smirked sourly. “Thank you. So? What’s not adding up?”

Donna sighed again and sat at Benny’s desk. “Fine. See, the doc is on shift in emergency care, and he had just filled paperwork, including a prescription, for a woman minutes before this whole thing.”

This whole thing. This whole thing where a monster had attacked his father.

“So? There’s almost twenty minutes between that time stamp and the Captain’s machines registering. Plenty of time,” Benny pointed out.

“Sure, sure,” Donna mused. “But doesn’t it seem strange that he tried to murder a guy on a coffee break? Why then? Why not wait till he was off shift?”

“For alibi,” Benny muttered. “He’s expecting we won’t think he had time.”

Dean watched Donna nod. “Okay. Maybe. But what about the other patients?”

“Captain don’t fit the same pattern as the rest.”

She chewed her lip, and then spoke again. “That’s bothering me too. Why would the doc attack John? What connection could they possibly have had? The doc’s been there for years. He had plenty of chance to hurt the Captain before now if he had some vendetta, for sure. But it doesn’t seem they ever knew one another.”

Benny took a breath. “But your interview with that nurse said the doctor was hanging with Sam.”

Dean’s eyes flashed in anger. Why wouldn’t Sam pick up his damn phone? “Yeah. Chatted with my kid brother, learned about Dad, and decided to kill him.”

“It’s the first time the suspect ever attacked someone in that ward.”

Benny frowned. “Wait. You think we got two psychos killing people at Mercy?”

“I’m saying, I need more to make this all add up.”

Dean’s head was pounding. “I need some coffee. Hey, best friend of two decades or something. Feel like getting a guy a coffee?”

Benny stood. “You too, Hanscum?”

“No. I’m good.”

The moment Benny had disappeared from the room, Dean turned on Donna. “Start at the beginning. What do we know about this doctor? Personality, habits?”

She nodded slowly. “Keeps to himself, works mostly night shifts, pulled a double shift yesterday, with a few hours rest in between. He’s been there for years, but nobody knows much about him. Always in professional mode with the nurses and staff. When he’s on call or off duty, he wanders sometimes, just walking, apparently for exercise. The only friend anyone seems aware of is a woman who works in IT, who he met in undergrad, when he worked as an EMT. And the emergency care administrator says he’s legendary for bringing folks back from the edge. He even sometimes does workshops for nurses and the public for CPR recertification.”

“And he gave my dad a heart attack somehow.”

“If that nurse hadn’t saved him, the Captain would’ve been gone.”

The Captain was gone. He had been gone for so many months, Dean had stopped counting. So why the hell did this guy target him?

“But look at the interview notes with the coroner, Dean. He’s talking about a substance he thinks was given to the other patients in order to cause-“

“A heart attack. Same thing.”

She shook her head. “For sure, but, Dean, in all the cases the coroner reopened, it usually wasn’t the heart attack that killed the patient, ultimately.”

Dean stared at the papers. “What do you mean?”

“I mean in a lot of cases, the substance was administered, the patient had a heart attack, but then they were resuscitated. It was after that there was evidence of suffocation.”

“Maybe that was the plan with my dad too?”

Donna looked up from the evidence. “Dean? You’re calling him Dad. You haven’t done that regularly in years.”

He felt the flinch close his throat, and he had to force a breath through. “Yeah. The Captain. You know what I mean.”

“Dean, he’s your dad. It’s okay to be his son right now. You don’t have to be his detective. Benny and I got this.”

“I want to go interview the damn doctor.”

Her voice was soft. “You know they won’t let you do that.”

“They’ll let me in. They won’t know I’m off the case.”

Donna searched his eyes. “Dean, he’s the Captain. Everyone knows what happened by now, and everyone will know not to let you in a room with a guy who might’ve tried to kill your father. Even if you got some rookie to let you intimidate him, Mills would have your badge before you stepped back out of the room.”

Frustration and a strangling helplessness was making him feel closed in. He needed air. “Then what can I do?”

His former lover took his arm, and looked up at him with empathy in her eyes that made his heart ache. “You can find Sam, bring him in. Talking to him might help make some of this make some damn sense. That’s the best thing any of us can do, and you’re the best one to do it. And that’s something you can do as John’s son. Go find Sam.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. You’re right.” He headed for the door, then stopped to turn slowly. His heart was still pounding, and so was his head, and he really did need a coffee. So he could hardly be blamed for the tears in his eyes or the way his face was heating. “Donna? When this is over...I just would really like to talk to you. I know I don’t deserve that, after the way I...but I miss you. And if you...Anyway, I just would really appreciate that.”

Her pretty eyes shone with their own light. She didn’t quite smile, but Dean knew it was there, in her gaze. “When this is over,” she repeated. “Now go.”

It was just as he started his car up that his phone rang. “Detective Winchester,” he growled.

“Hey. Okay, I found you. Awesome.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m-I’m trying to find a Sam Winchester. I found your number in a...Let’s not talk about how I got your number. Or know anything about you. Or about why I think you might be the brother of Sam Winchester.”

He frowned darkly. “Who is this?”

“I’m a friend of a guy who needs to talk to Sam Winchester. He’s in a lot of trouble, and the way he sounded...I think he thinks Sam might be too.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he pulled his car onto the road. “Start talking.”


	11. Do What You Gotta Do

The last time Sam and John had both been conscious in the same room, they had taken all their previous blowouts to a whole new level. Dean had walked in to find them screaming at one another, and it had been so bad that his training had kicked in and he had pulled his sidearm before he realized it was just his kid brother and his father having it out like always. He had immediately gotten between them and shoved them both away, and demanded to know what the hell was going on. 

Sam’s face was streaked with tears, and red with fury and hurt. John’s eyes were flashing dangerously, but he had smirked. “Sammy’s leaving the academy.”

He could see his older brother take the news like a slap to the face. “Wait. What?”

“I passed my bar, and I’m going.”

“He’s going to chase ambulances instead of what he’s been trained to do, which is hunt monsters. He’s going to-“

“I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do! What I’ve worked so hard for! I’ve tried to tell you! I got my undergrad done, and I applied to the academy because it was what you wanted, but it’s not what I wanted! I’ve worked my ass off to finish my law classes-“

“So you could prosecute!” Dean interrupted. “I thought your plan was to prosecute! And we could work together!”

John’s glower stole Dean’s breath. “So you knew he was leaving the department?”

Green eyes lowered. “Y-Yes, sir, I mean, I thought he was just-just coming at it from a different angle. He’s been taking courses, but I thought-“

Sam shook his head. “I’m not interested in chasing ambulances, Dean! But I’m going into corporate-“

“Sammy, we’ve got monsters out there, like the ones that killed your mother-“

“That’s not fair!” Sam shouted. “That bastard that killed Mom-Look, Mom was a great officer, but she didn’t want that for me and Dean!”

“That was before that monster stole her away from us! And you’re willing to let demons like that walk free so you can work some cushy office job, after I’ve worked all my life training you boys to pick up where she left off! You ungrateful, selfish-“

“Dad!”

Sam shook his head. “No, let him go. Let him get it all out. I’ve never been what he wanted me to be. You didn’t hear what he said before you got here. Tell him, Dad. I’m not officer material anyway, am I? Character unbecoming of an officer. You said that years ago, and I worked as hard as I could to prove you wrong, but after all this time, you still think I can’t hack the job, because of who I am. I’m not the model officer you want me to be, and I want to use my law degree, so this should be win-win, right, Dad?”

Dean was gray. He looked ill. “What are you talking about? Dad? What’s he talking about?”

John’s face was full of rage, but his voice was quiet and deep. “That’s between me and Sam.”

“It’s because I’m gay. That’s why I’m not fit to be an officer. Right, Dad?”

Dean turned on his father. “Dad?”

“Years ago. He told me years ago that I needed to lock that up and never let anyone know, because no one would ever respect me as an officer. And by no one? He means him. Before you walked in just now, he told me he had hoped I would get past the nonsense and take my job seriously, but clearly I’m too afraid to do what you two do. I’m not man enough to-“

John stepped forward to shout again. “If you leave that academy, after everything I’ve done for you, after everything I’ve put up with from you, you better never come back. I’m done with this selfish, childish-You had the most potential! You were a better candidate than your brother ever was! You would’ve been a better detective! But you can’t get past these childish games to do what you need to do. So get out. We don’t need you.”

The heartbreak and conflicting emotions on Dean’s face made it hard for Sam to breathe. “Dean,” he gasped. “Come on, man. You’re the best officer the department has ever had. He knows that. But he’s never going to respect either of us. Come on. Come with me. I’m moving to the city. You can do that too. Let Dad run his county. You gotta come with me.”

But Dean had swallowed hard, and shook his head. “I’ll call you, Sammy,” he said hoarsely. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Dean!”

“This is it for me. It doesn’t have to be for you. Go, do what you gotta do, Sammy. I gotta stay. I got work to do.”

Sam had shaken his head. “It’s Sam,” he had snarled, and then he had turned back to his father. “I’m not coming back. You and your good son go save the world. As the defective son? I don’t care what happens to you.”

The words pounded through his head in time with his heart. “I don’t care what happens to you.” It was the last thing his father had ever heard him say. Now, all this time later, his own words haunted him. It turned out that Sam cared. He cared far too much. And he would never have the chance to say so. 

He watched Ephraim pacing the bedroom, with the handgun waving dangerously. The man was alternating between talking to himself and talking to Sam, who sat on his heels, against the wall with his wrists duct taped together to his ankles behind his back. 

“It’s my gift,” he was muttering. “I never got the chance to tell anyone before now. But you, Sam, you understand.”

“I don’t understand anything.”

But Ephraim continued. “Dr. Cas taught me that the most important thing was to gain the patient’s trust. I do that! I start by saving them! I always start that way!”

Sam glared darkly up at his lover. “You start by poisoning them.”

The nurse sighed heavily. “I told you. It isn’t poison. It’s medicine.”

“Yeah. Medicine that, when given to the wrong person, kills him.”

“Only if someone isn’t there to save them!” he insisted. “I never leave them alone! I take care of them! Always! Sometimes they are too far gone, but that’s rare. I can usually bring them back. And once they trust me, they can see that what I do next is for their own good! So they can move beyond the pain without fearing the person ending it! Because they know I’m there to help them! Sometimes they fight me, but that’s reflex. They know. They know I’m there to deliver them from their pain. Because I saved them before!”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “So the plan for my dad, for those other poor people, was to induce a heart attack, rescue him, then kill him.”

“It’s really a fairly painless way to die. Drowning would be better, and I’ve experimented with ways to do that, but for now, smothering is really the best way. Sam, your father’s pain would be over right now if Dr. Castiel hadn’t interrupted me. He’s not the hero I used to know. He can’t be trusted. He tried to hurt you, and he kept me from doing work that Heaven wants me to do.”

“How did he try to hurt me?” Sam shouted. 

“I’m the best one to take care of you. And I saw the way he looked at you, like he wanted to take my place.”

“Jesus, Ephraim! We just had a coffee! You were going to kill my dad because I had coffee with someone? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ephraim’s eyes flashed in anger. “No! I should have ended John’s pain months ago! But I’ve been so happy with you that I’ve let myself get lazy about doing what I know I should do, because I knew it would upset you when he died. But I realize now that I’m not protecting you by not taking your father’s pain. I’m allowing you to continue to be exposed to viruses and infections every time you come to the hospital to check on him. Viruses like Dr. Cas. It’s my job to keep you healthy. You have to trust me, Sam! I know how to protect you!”

Sam’s mind was whirring mercilessly. He shook his head again. “Ephraim, how can you tell me to trust you? After what you’ve done, how can I possibly trust you?”

The man stared at him hard for a moment, then slowly nodded. He raised the gun, but reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand. From it, he pulled a syringe, with a light pink substance inside. He took a deep breath. “You’ll trust me after I save you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Sam. It’s the most important thing. You have to be able to trust me. It’s a risk, but I’m very good, and in the end, it’s more important that you understand that you can trust me than whether or not you can be saved. You matter like no one ever has. I’ll try harder to save you than I’ve ever tried before. Please be still. I don’t want it to hurt you.”


	12. Bailing Before the Bake-Off

There was shouting outside his cage. His head was pounding in time with his heart. He hoped the commotion was not coming nearer. He was having enough trouble hearing his own thoughts over the cacophony around him.

At least he was alone in here. He didn’t want to think about how much worse things could be...how much worse they probably would be once the offices all opened in the morning. Just hours ago, he had been bored with life. He had never wanted this much excitement. The anxiety and fear was strangling him mercilessly.

The shouting quieted somewhat, but a door slammed open and a large man stomped in. Two others quickly followed, a young officer whose name Castiel vaguely remembered as Garth, and the beautiful, arrogant attorney for the hospital, Ms. Talbot. Her heels clicked on the floor, making Castiel feel like she was tap dancing directly on his headache.

The first man barreled through, in spite of their protests. “I said, I’m talking to him! Fitzgerald, call my Captain, and tell her I shoved past you. It’ll cover your ass. And, Bela, you better back the hell off. I ain’t harassing him. I’m talking to him. Come on if you want. But I’m talking to him.”

“Dr. Castiel,” Ms. Talbot called shrilly. “Doctor, you have no obligation here! You do not have to answer anything he-“

The man’s gaze bore into him. “Where’s my brother?”

Relief flooded him at once. “You’re Dean. The police captain’s other son.”

“Where is he?”

“You have to get to him. He’s in danger. I feel it in my gut, just like I did when he went after your father!” He gripped the bars between them until his knuckles whitened.

“Who?” Dean snarled.

“Doctor, not another word!”

“Come on, Winchester! Jody and Singer find out I let you in here, there’s gonna be hell to pay!”

But Castiel focused his blue eyes only on Dean. “Ephraim Thom. He’s a nurse at Mercy. No one will listen to me. He’s dangerous. And your brother...He-he must be seeing your brother, and-and Sam won’t know how dangerous he is! Please. Sam is… He’s a good man, or-or he seems to be, and Ephraim Thom, he charms people, but he’s done something to hurt your father, and I can’t help feeling like Sam is in trouble too.”

The large man stared at him, into his soul, it seemed, then began to nod. “Where does the guy live?”

“My friend, Charlie. She found you?”

“Yeah. It’s why I’m here.”

He sighed gently. “Dear Charlie. Okay. The admins will demand a warrant or something for that information. I remember from my years with the EMT. But Charlie… If you don’t ask her how, she can get you that address faster than you can look it up. Call her. Tell her you’re looking for Ephraim Thom.”

Dean stared one moment longer. “You’re not going to ask me to let you out?”

“Saving Sam is the most important thing right now. That comes first, before me, before everything.”

Something flashed in the man’s green eyes, and he whirled on Ms. Talbot. “Custody. He’s still in custody with me.”

Garth’s mouth dropped. “Dean, I can’t do that!”

“Yeah, you can. Bela?”

A small smile came over her painted lips. “Just a moment,” she purred.

The next thing Castiel knew, another man was storming in, this one bellowing in a British accent just as Ms. Talbot was chittering in hers.

“Your partner is the bloody arresting officer! You want to walk out this door with the man who might’ve-“

“If there is a chance my client isn’t safe with you-“

Dean’s voice snapped in. “Shut up, Bela. He’s safer on my watch than yours. And, Crowley, suck it up. He’s not a flight risk.”

“You don’t know that! You moron!”

“Now, Fergus, mind your blood pressure.”

“Any client of Bela Talbot’s is guilty by association! I’ve never heard-“

“Crowley, release him into my custody.”

“Morons. All of you. I’m the only one here who isn’t a moron. Fine, Dean. He’s in your custody. And if we both still have jobs tomorrow, you better bring him back in one prosecutable piece!”

Suddenly, Castiel was being manhandled roughly, and he could still hear Ms. Talbot, the young cop and the prosecutor arguing as he was pulled out the door. His feet hit the pavement, and then he was shoved into the passenger seat of a black classic car.

“What just happened?”

“You aren’t the bad guy here. But you know who is. We’re going to save my brother.” He tossed his phone onto the doctor’s lap, and let the engine roar. “Call your friend. Sam hasn't answered his phone in hours, and he ain’t at his apartment or office. If your gut is right, I don’t have time to waste on a mistake or red tape. Get me to this guy’s place. Now.”

Castiel gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for believing me.”

“Saving Sam comes first. Before the job. Before everything. Maybe I just want to believe you, because you told me saving Sam comes first.”

“Dean, I know you don’t know me. And I don’t know you. But your brother is a good man, and Ephraim Thom has him under his spell. He needs to know what sort of man he’s with. The sort who would attack your sleeping father.”

“Why are you willing to risk everything for a guy you just met? It’d be better for you to just keep your trap shut, sit in a cell till the Brits have their bake-off, and then walk free. Your future against one stranger’s life? Most wouldn’t think it was worth it.”

He busied his hands dialing Charlie’s number. While it rang, he murmured a response, more to himself than to the driver. “Sometimes you just know about someone. Nothing is worth losing Sam. And saving him is worth whatever I lose in the process.”


	13. Bridge to The Other Side

Ephraim had never done any hard drugs. His one experience with marijuana had been more confusing and disappointing than fun. He had never experienced anything that altered his state of mind. He was a good student, but nothing interested him much. The only time his heart raced was when he encountered death. It was fascinating. It didn’t frighten him the way he understood others were frightened by it. Something about it was welcoming. Not as though he wanted it for himself. It was more that he suspected he could partner with it, or even one day to possess it, and no harm could come to him.

The fear of death was irrational, so far as Ephraim could see. He understood the base instinct to survive. Fear of dying was elementary biology. But fear of being dead made no sense whatsoever. Death was a state beyond pain, beyond sickness. It was molecular decay and nothing more. Decay only hurt the living. The dead had nothing to complain about.

The concept of crossing over from one state to the other, the moment that bridged life and death, consumed him as a young man. Ephraim grew frustrated when neither teachers at his high school, nor religious leaders he sought out, could give him straightforward answers to his questions about that simple, unknowable moment in time when a person ceased to be. He immersed himself in religious studies for a time, but the closest he could come was a study of the two states being bridged, the suffering and the relief of it, never the bridge itself. Before long, the theoretical and philosophical study became tedious. He turned from the abstract to the jarring realities of medicine.

Suddenly, he was surrounded by death and near-death. It was intriguing. He experienced the transitional moment between stages many, many times in the emergency room, with doctors like Clarence Castiel and so many others who focused all their energy and efforts on stranding the patients firmly on the living, suffering side of the bridge, and preventing the crossing to the relief of death.

Ephraim learned to do this too, and he realized quickly that he had power others couldn’t understand, to cause death, then reverse it according to his own will. Patients of his could cross the bridge, then cross back. He could bring them back, and then, if he decided to do so, he could help them along again to ease their pain.

“Their pain belongs to me, Sam. They suffer if I choose that they should continue to suffer. Your father is in a vegetative, comatose state. He’s already on the bridge. He just needs to be guided over it. If he were able to understand, he wouldn’t fight against the next state. He would be grateful.”

Sam glowered at him, but stared warily at the syringe nearing him. He struggled against his taped wrists and ankles. “Am I supposed to be grateful?” he growled.

Ephraim shrugged, a little sadly. “Sam, you’re the only thing that’s ever been different. Before you, I never felt anything. Nothing gave me any pleasure before you. Nothing made me happy. But now...When I help end someone’s pain, especially if I can experience that moment with them ahead of time, to let them stand on the bridge and know they’re about to cross over to a better state, then when I help them do it permanently, it does something to me. It’s a feeling that only sex with you can come close to.”

His lover flinched violently.

“So you can’t understand how incredible it is to go from that moment to coming home to you in my bed. It brings me to tears sometimes. It’s the most intense feeling I’ve ever had, facilitating an end to suffering followed by being in your arms. It’s the sharpest fever pitch I’ve ever known. So you get why I need you. And why I wanted you to know, and understand. Why I need you to trust me and be here for me. You make me feel so good that I hurt. So good that I reach a point beyond pain that only death can usually provide. I need to share this with you, Sam. I know you don’t quite understand yet, but you will in a minute. I promise.” He leaned down to kiss Sam gently on the lips, ignoring the way the man winced. “Let me take away your pain, and show you that you can trust me.”

“Get away from me! Ephraim!” Sam shouted.

The poison was pushed into his vein with expert precision, in spite of Sam’s efforts to move out of reach.

“Shh,” Ephraim cooed. “Not long now. Shh. I’ve got you.” He stroked Sam’s sweaty hair from his eyes. “I’ve got you…”


	14. Staying Alive

When Sam was about twelve, and John had been away on a case, he had run away from home. Dean had tracked him down and dragged him back after a week. He had skipped school to look for his brother for the first two days. And when Dad came home…

There was no shouting. Most of that was reserved for Sam. Volume wasn’t necessary to get his point across with the older boy. He simply cut his eyes at Dean and spoke in a quiet tone. “Go back out there and look again. And don’t bother coming back without him.”

Taking care of Sammy was his job. It had been that way since their mother had been killed in the line of duty. John didn’t even really have to tell him. It was a part of him. Then Sam had slammed into adulthood, so abruptly that they had all felt the whiplash, and the kid he had known so well, the one he had raised himself, had become a stranger. After a lifetime of knowing Sam’s every worry and dream, Dean was now relying on someone else to help track him down at the home of the lover Dean didn’t know. 

When this was over, Dean was going to make things right. He was going to reconnect with the most important person in his life, if Sam could forgive him. And he was going to reconcile with Donna, if she would still have him. He had to fix it all, and put his life back on track with those he loved. 

It crossed his mind that forgiving his father-forgiving himself for disappointing his father-might also be a healthy endeavor, long overdue. But first, Sam. Always first. Always Sam. 

“Keep behind me,” Dean growled.

“Unless you need help,” the quiet doctor murmured back. There was a strange determination in the deep voice that nearly made Dean smile. If he hadn’t already been convinced of the man’s good intentions, that defiant little promise to get in the way if needed sealed the sentiment. 

Dean took a deep breath and stepped back to kick in the door. “Ephraim Thom!” he snarled. 

There was commotion inside the studio apartment, drawing Dean’s attention immediately. There, on the floor next to the bed, lay his brother, prone and unconscious. The nurse jumped to his feet and dropped the needle from his hand. It skittered across the floor, as Ephraim whirled around. 

“Don’t move!” the detective shouted. He trained his sidearm on the man’s chest. “What the hell did you do to him? My brother! What did you do to him?”

Castiel was flying past him now, dropping and sliding on his knees in his rush to tear into the binds at Sam’s wrists and ankles, to flatten him out even as he began to shake terribly. 

“What did you do?” he demanded again. 

The nurse stared. “You-you have to let me save him! He tried to hurt himself, and I’m just trying to-to help him! He needs me!”

A horrible, voiceless sound came from Sam’s throat hen, chilling Dean to the bone. “You stay away from my brother!” 

Castiel’s hands were confident as he checked Sam for injuries. He looked at him with grim horror. “Detective? He’s going into cardiac arrest!” He began ripping Sam’s tee shirt down the front to gain access to his chest. Without hesitation, he began chest compressions. 

“No!” Ephraim screamed, and suddenly Dean realized he was not the only one holding a gun. “No! I’m the one who saves him! Not you! I’m better than you!”

“Put down the weapon!” Dean ordered. 

But Ephraim’s focus was entirely on the doctor, who pointedly ignored him in favor of mentally counting repetitions. “Get away from him! I’ll kill you! You traitor! You hypocrite! He’s not yours! If I can’t save him, he’s better off dead!”

“Drop the gun!” he shouted again. 

But instead, the nurse shook his head, and tears washed his face. “Sam is all that matters. And I won’t let you be the one to save him. You’re not even real.” He raised his handgun to aim at Castiel. 

The doctor closed his eyes in a cringe, but continued his work. 

Dean fired immediately. 

Other than a severe flinch at the sound, Castiel never stopped his ministrations to his patient. Now, in a very deep, trembling voice, he spoke, even while his hands kept a constant rhythm. “Detective? Call for EMTs now.”

He spared a single, silent moment to stare at the doctor, who was so frightened that he had not even opened his eyes yet, who had clearly been certain the sound of the gun meant he himself should be dead, and who remained so steadfast in his work to save Sam in spite of all this. Then Dean’s gaze dropped to his brother, and the adrenaline ripped through him again. He grabbed his radio and his phone, and in just seconds, he was shouting into both.


	15. If You Know Him, You Know Why

Someone was speaking, but Sam couldn’t make out who. It was too dark in this corridor. He frowned at the walls, trying to make his eyes adjust to the low light. 

Slowly, the voice rose in volume, and even if he couldn’t understand it, he chided himself for not recognizing his father’s voice before. He hurried toward it, suddenly very sure of his way. He ran his hands down his uniform to be sure everything was in perfect order before entering his father’s office. It was odd that John’s office was in the Academy now. Sam wondered when it had moved from the precinct. 

“Yes, sir? You called for me?”

John was very pale, and his breathing seemed strangely rhythmic, in contrast with his sharp eyes and strong voice. “What’s the matter with you?”

Sam’s foggy mind fought desperately to think of why John might be upset with him. “Nothing is wrong, sir.” He tried to keep his voice steady, confident. 

“You’re letting this demon win.”

He swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” he responded hoarsely. 

“I taught you better than this. Get up.”

Sam looked around him in a rising panic. “I’m up! I’m…” He shrugged stupidly. “What am I doing wrong? What demon?”

“You think I would just lay back and die?” John growled. “Not a chance! Your brother, would he? We’re fighters, Sam! Survivors. We hunt these things. We aren’t prey.”

His mouth was entirely dry. “You mean Ephraim.”

John stood and circled his desk to put his face too close to Sam’s. The young man stopped breathing altogether. “My boys don’t need anyone else to save them. They don’t need anyone taking care of them. They’re strong enough, smart enough on their own.”

“I don’t! I never needed him! I swear! It wasn’t like that! He was messed up, Dad, but I didn’t know-“

“I’m not Dad in here,” his commanding officer snapped. 

Sam’s eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared in anger. “You’re not my dad in here,” he repeated. He touched his uniform again, and found his best suit had replaced it. “Yeah. You are. Because I don’t work for you anymore. You’re not my CO now. If you want to be anything to me ever again, you better choose to be a dad to me now. Because you’re right. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. But I’d like to have you. We’re stronger together, Dad. But if you keep pushing me away, if you keep grinding away at Dean’s loyalty, you’re going to find yourself alone. And I’ve been visiting you every damn week for who knows how long, because I don’t think you really want to be alone. Show me an ounce of the dedication Dean and I have always shown you. Because we’re both running out of time for that.”

John’s face was pulled tight with pain, and it took Sam a moment to realize he was fighting back tears. “Not you, Sam. Just me. You’ve still got work to do. I’m...I’m at the end. I just need to...I need to get you up first, and then I can go. Pick you up like I never did when you were a kid. When I say I’m not Dad in here, I don’t mean it like when I was your CO, and I didn’t allow you to call me that. I mean...I mean I’ve never been your dad. I mean I wasn’t that then, and that’s not what you need now. You boys...I got from you boys everything I ever asked of you. And I’m going to go, because you don’t need me, but I need one thing from you.”

Tears streamed down Sam’s face, and he swiped at them in humiliation. “Anything, Dad. You know we always would have done anything.”

At last, his father smiled softly. “I know. I need you to get up now, son. Your brother needs you to get up. All that loyalty you two gave me, it belongs between the two of you. You got work to do, son. You can’t leave your brother alone out there.”

Pain was seeping into his awareness, pain in his chest and head, even his legs and one of his arms. He stared at his father as memories crept in as well. “Dad? What did he do to me?”

John’s voice was firm. “Nothing you can’t handle. Just get up, Sam. You can do this. Dean’s with you. Dean is always with you. And that doctor. He’s the real thing, Sam. Everything you thought Ephraim might be, and so much more. I’m sorry I told you to bury yourself, Sam. I was afraid that part of you would make you weak. It hasn’t, and I see that now. Just get up, and begin again.”

“What do I do?”

John seemed so pale now that he was fading away. “Reach out. Dean is there. My boys are always there for one another. Reach out for him, and he will pull you back, and it’ll all be just fine.”

Sam watched the darkness swallow up his father, and cried out in fear. The pain was coming for him now. But he closed his eyes hard against it, and focused on his father’s final order. He opened a hand which had curled into a fist, and just as promised, he felt the strength of the hand which had always been there for him. “Dean?” he hissed voicelessly. 

“I got you, Sammy. Come on. It’s okay.”

There were other voices around them, but there was only one that mattered, and it was assuring him everything would be all right. Let the pain come for him. He had been hurt before, and his big brother’s hand had always been there to hold.


	16. Neville Before He was Awesome

The last thing Castiel wanted was to give Sam the opportunity to reject him outright. Why hadn’t he asked Charlie to come with him? Or to go instead of him! That would have been smart. People called Castiel smart. But Charlie knew better, and that’s what made her such an amazing friend. 

“Would you stop? I swear, you are so Neville Longbottom, with Sheldon Cooper on the side!.”

“What?”

“And not even Neville after he grew up awesome. Like first book Neville.”

“I don’t understand that reference,” he moaned pitifully. “Can’t you just tell me what to say?”

“I don’t know. He isn’t my type. He’s a dude.”

Castiel stopped walking and closed his eyes. “Charlie, I’m about to abort this whole mission. I cannot fly without guidance from mission control. We both know this. So start controlling!”

Charlie heaved a sigh. “You’re going to check on him. You’re going to ask him how he is. You’re going to tell him how sorry you are that he got mixed up with a freaking psychopath.”

“He’s far too good a person to have to go through all this. Did I tell you about the volunteer work he does?”

“Yeah. You’ve been talking about him without taking a breath. And I read the news too.”

“You read it aloud in a strange accent.”

“I find news easier to digest when it’s in the form of a medieval town crier.” She cleared her throat. “Cas, you’ve really only had one conversation with this guy. Most of what you know about him has been just you obsessively reading news reports that include his bio. Are you sure you aren’t just attracted to his pretty, pretty face?”

Frustration filled his eyes with stinging tears. “I like his face,” he said very quietly. “I like his voice and his smile. I like that he could probably bench press me. I like that he does so much volunteering that I’m ashamed of my own considerable pro bono clinic hours. I like that he was so...so devoted…”

Charlie took a breath. “To his dad,” she finished sadly. 

“According to his brother, who clearly thinks Sam hung the moon, Sam and his father were at one another’s throats since Sam was old enough to speak. Yet he was there, week in and week out, just to be there-to be there...just in case…”

“Cas, I know you had a difficult upbringing. But your dad was not John Winchester. And when your dad needed you, you did everything you possibly could to save him, in spite of the way you two were always fighting.”

“Wasn’t enough.”

His friend’s voice was soft. “Cas, you couldn’t resuscitate your dad after his heart gave out. And Sam couldn’t wake his dad up after he had been hurt on the job. But you both did everything you could, and you were there. That’s what matters. You tried. And you saved Sam. Just go in there and tell him how you feel.” 

Castiel blinked several times to clear his eyes. “Okay. That’s...Yeah, okay.”

“Bestie? You got this. And for the record, I’m proud of you.”

Castiel’s brows lifted in surprise. “For what?”

“For all of it. For keeping your head. For talking to this guy in the first place and making a new friend, even when you are terrified no one could possibly like you. Despite all the people who have ever met you and think you’re a great guy. And I’m proud of you that you’re taking a risk now. But mostly? I’m just proud of you.”

The tears threatened again, but he smiled through the blur. “Nothing means more to me than that. Bestie. Thank you for believing in me when-when it looked like I had hurt someone. No matter the outcome, if you hadn’t believed me...Charlie, nothing is worth losing you.”

“Go get him, Cas. Win or lose, I’m proud of you for playing the game.”

So here he was, at the open door to Sam’s room, trying to breathe and remember Charlie’s voice. He could hear voices inside. 

“Shut up. I didn’t come here to baby you.”

“And I’m-ow! Would you knock it off? Have you ever had a broken rib? Would you give me a minute?”

“Not if you’re gonna use that minute to be a whiny bitch.”

“Jerk! Just give it to me! I can get in my jacket myself.”

Castiel cringed. His administration of CPR had led to two fractured ribs. It was clearly worth it, since Sam was alive, but he hated how much pain the man was in. 

“Ow,” came the pitiful moan from his patient, apparently after trying to don his own jacket. 

He sighed, and stepped into the commotion. “Detective Winchester. And Mr. Winchester.”

Dean looked up first. Sam was still stubbornly trying to thread his arms through the suit jacket. “Hey! Doc!”

Sam froze halfway into his suit, which looked painful by itself. “Cas?”

He was shocked to be engulfed in an embrace without any warning. Was this an attack? Was he being attacked? “Detect-“

Dean pounded on his back, then released him. “You saved my brother’s life, Doc. You’re family. Call me Dean.”

A slow smile came over him. “Then-Then call me Cas. It’s a shortened version of my name. No doctor necessary. And anyway, I wouldn’t have been there to help your brother if you hadn’t taken a risk and trusted me.”

Dean shrugged. “Wasn’t a risk. My instincts are good. Can’t say it runs in the family.”

Sam glowered darkly. “Dean,” he grumbled in warning. 

“Anyway, thanks again, man. Look, we, um...we’re checking Sam out of here and...I guess you heard our dad…”

Castiel bowed his head. “I was very sorry to hear that your father had passed.”

The older man swallowed and tried to smile. “Yeah. I guess that’s what happens when a damn psycho induces a heart attack on a guy that’s been living on machines for over a year.”

Sam was shaking his head, but he remained quiet. 

“Sammy, stay put for a few. I’m going to say one last quick goodbye before we go.”

Castiel watched the detective slip out of the room and down the hall, then sighed and turned to Sam. “I am sorry for your loss.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. But...Do you believe in...I had this dream. That dad helped me...Anyway, I feel like I got to say goodbye this time. It’s silly, but it makes all the difference. Dean feels better that he got to hunt the thing that went after Dad. And I feel like he was with me when I needed him. It doesn’t make sense. But it’s okay.”

Castiel let his head tip gently to the side. He didn’t quite understand, but he hoped it meant Sam had found peace with his relationships with his father and brother. “I’m glad, Sam.”

There was a thoughtful pause, then a smile. “So I didn’t get to thank you before.”

“How are you feeling?”

Sam licked his lips carefully. “Worn out. Like I could fall asleep any minute. I guess that’s normal?”

“It is. It’s only been two full days,” the doctor reminded him. “I’m surprised they’re releasing you.”

“They said I could do the rest of recovery as an outpatient if I wanted. Apparently the guy who took care of me initially did a really awesome job.”

Castiel had been glancing over Sam’s chart on the bedside, but now he looked up. “Oh. I-um, I don’t think…”

But Sam’s eyes were steady on him. “Thank you, Cas. There’s no doubt that I would’ve died without you.”

He took a breath and forced himself to respond. “It’s possible Nurse Thom could have brought you back, as he hoped to do. He was quite skilled in that way.”

Sam took a step toward him insistently. “I’m glad it was you. Cas...I know we only met a few days ago, but so much has happened since then, and I want to say something to you.”

A tiny tremor was forming in his hands, so he hurried to shove them into the pockets of his black pants. “Of course, Sam. You can tell me anything.”

Pleasure beamed from the man. He sighed. “Cas, I’ve never wanted to rely on anyone before, and I’ve definitely never wanted anyone to rely on me. Even before I found out how unstable Ephraim was, I didn’t really trust that we could depend on one another. You know?”

“It seems your brother is wrong about your instincts. They seem fine to me.”

Hazel green eyes rolled a little. “I was blindsided by Ephraim.”

Castiel chose his words with caution. “Sam, Ephraim Thom was a charismatic man that managed to fool everyone, to charm everyone.”

“Not you.”

“Perhaps not. But everyone else seemed to think he was a hero. For everyone around us, it was easier to believe I was a killer than Ephraim Thom. That says quite a bit about the likability of each of us,” he added sourly. 

“Dean says he could tell after a few words that you were a good guy. I spent months with Ephraim, and didn’t know he was a psychopath.” He shook his head. “But the point is this. Even when I thought he was trustworthy, I didn’t trust him with my heart. I liked him. But I didn’t let myself fall in love with him. He wanted me to commit to him, and I never really got to the point where I could do that. I don’t think I ever would have gotten there. Not with him.”

Castiel wasn’t sure why Sam was telling him all this. But he nodded anyway. 

“Cas, it’s just like with Dean. I could tell right away that you’re a good man. Ephraim told me it was more important that I trust him than lived. That it was worth the risk in breaking me just to show me he would try to put me back together. I was right not to trust him. But you’re different. What he broke in order to be a hero, you fixed because you truly are one. I guess what I’m saying is...I’m glad I can trust you with my heart, Cas, because I’m falling for you like I never did for anyone before.”

Partway through Sam’s speech, Castiel had stopped breathing. Now he gasped in a breath of surprise. “Me?” he demanded. “You’re falling for me?”

Sam was watching his eyes. “I like you, Cas. And I already trust you more than anyone I’ve ever known, except my brother himself. And he likes you. He trusts you too. You saved my life, Cas. Yeah. I’m falling for you.”

His own heart was pounding mercilessly. He reached out to grip the side of the hospital bed to keep from stumbling. “Sam, I-I came here to check on you, but...I’m on administrative leave for several days while this is all getting worked out, and so I came to the hospital to...to tell you I’m falling for you.”

Excitement lit Sam’s sweet, weary eyes. “Yeah?” He sighed happily. “Dad’s right. You’re the real thing.” He lifted a hand to Castiel’s cheek and drew him in to kiss him softly. He grinned. “Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s it. That’s what it’s supposed to be like.”

Castiel remained stunned into motionless silence. 

Sam laughed quietly. “Cas, you’re off work. I’m going home, and I may need some help with my recovery. The doctor said so.”

He nodded quickly. “I can do that! I’d be the perfect one to do that! I want to do that!”

The laughter was in no way unkind. Castiel loved that. “I’d be grateful. I don’t like relying on anyone, but if I have to, I’d like it to be someone I truly trust. And someone whose kiss is so nice.”

Castiel beamed from every pore. “Lead the way!” he chirped. 

Sam took another kiss then, and this time Castiel had the wits to join in.


	17. No Mercy

Dean entered the room and sat in the chair next to the hospital bed. He stared for a long time, just listening to the machines and the breathing, then sighed. “Sam says you’re obsessed with death. Donna found your records, your books with all the numbers. The journals of folks you hurt. Sam says you talked about a bridge between life and death, and your scribbles in your books talked about the only thing that gave you a thrill being moving somebody across the bridge. You wrote that being dead isn’t something to fear. That death was the only way to end all suffering. Know what I think?”

Ephraim Thom simply breathed with the help of his machines. 

Dean stood over the prone gunshot victim, and leaned down to whisper his next words. “I think this is what scared you. The in between. The bridge itself. Not alive, and not dead. I think it’s everything that terrified you. And that’s why you’re going to stay just like this for as long as possible. Till some judge or God Himself takes pity on you. Costs the taxpayers about the same as a life sentence, and it’s where you can cause the least amount of pain to other people. Trapped in your own head, on that bridge that scared the hell out of you. Sleep well, psycho.”

He hoped Sam’s research was right, that Ephraim Thom could feel something inside his frozen shell.

“That was for my dad, you son of a bitch.”

The detective let heavy footsteps fall in the empty hallway. Had he looked back, he might have seen a nurse slipping into the room silently to perform her duty. But Dean was determined to stop looking back.

He had work to do. 

~~~~~~

Meg watched the detective saunter out without a glance behind him. She looked down at the man lying motionless in the hospital bed, and smiled grimly. She took out her magazine, and sat comfortably in the corner of the room. She was off duty now, but she could spare some time every so often to keep an eye on this man. He was her responsibility, and she wanted to be the first face he saw if he ever awoke. He had preyed on those in her charge without mercy. Now she was the one who would watch over him.


	18. Guardian of the Heart

A gentle, strong hand touched the back of his neck, and Sam’s smile widened. “Hey!”

Castiel’s deep voice murmured into his ear. “Hello, Sam.”

It never failed to produce a shiver, even after all this time. 

“What are you laughing to yourself about?”

Sam continued to stare at his phone. “Dean and Donna. He was planning on asking her last night. Apparently she beat him to it.”

Castiel propped himself up on his elbow to look over his shoulder. “Donna proposed?”

“Yeah. On the night Dean was finally going to do it.”

His lover chuckled softly. “That sounds like them.”

“Always in perfect alignment and at odds at the same time. Yeah. That sounds like them.”

“I assume he said yes after he had finished cursing.”

Sam snickered. “Yeah. Then he made her listen to the speech he had prepared. Her answer?”

“You betcha?”

He touched his fingertip to his nose to let Castiel know he had it exactly right. Then he put the phone down and sighed. “He’s happy. I love that he’s happy, you know?”

Castiel nodded. “Nothing made me happier than standing at Charlie’s side when she married Dorothy. Knowing your loved ones are loved is an incredible feeling.”

Sam looked up at him with perpetual wonder. “Am I loved?” he asked in a hushed voice, as his hand wandered up to touch a sweet face full of morning scruff. 

Unending adoration, which seemed so keen as to be painful, shone from Castiel’s eyes. “You are loved, Sam. You can’t possibly understand how much. I just love you.”

He felt the warmth of trust and security in Castiel’s strong hands, as they caressed him. How had he ever thought that he had been loved before Castiel? This was the real thing. Like John had told him, in his dream, Castiel was the real thing. “And I love you,” he whispered back. “With all I am, I love you.”

Castiel’s pure, quiet happiness at these words was everything to Sam now. “How do you feel, Sam?”

“I feel good.”

“You feel incredible,” his lover sighed. 

He smiled. “When do you have to be a hero today?”

The narrowing of the blue eyes caused adorable crinkles at their edges. “I’m on call from home all day today,” he responded neutrally. 

“Yeah? Me too.”

The doctor laughed. “Sam, you’re a junior partner. You’re never off duty.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. But it’s only six in the morning. No one will expect me at the office till eight.”

“You’re frequently in the office before eight, Sam.”

“But not on a Saturday.”

“Often on a Sat-“

Sam spun in his arms and tackled him in the sheets. “Not today!” he laughed. “I want to make love to you, dummy!”

Castiel was beaming at him beautifully. “Then do. You’ll get no objections from me. Sam, I wake up every morning with you beside me, and every morning, I think the same thing. How did this happen? How did this man happen to me? Anytime you want to make love, be assured I’m already there.”

His pressed a kiss onto his lover’s lips. “How did it happen? You saved my heart, remember?”

“And it will be safe with me always,” he swore solemnly. 

Sam rewarded the sincerity of the vow with everything he had, just as he had promised so many times before.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are lovely things, just like Sastiel morning cuddles that I enjoy so much. 
> 
> If you liked it, consider putting a note on it. 
> 
> ~Posing


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